Ballad of a Broken Blackbird (The Raven)
by hfward1221
Summary: What if there was someone out there that knew everything? What if she lived and breathed the darkness that normal people ran from? What if she was in love with certain blonde-haired, dead boy? Well that would just be crazy. Tate/OC "She's a butcher with a smile"
1. Chapter 1

My breath was ragged with excitement as I starred up at my new home. The stained glass windows shone with the bright light from the moon and the ivy slowly crawling up the side of the old brick took shape in the shadows.

 _Murder House_

It was hauntingly beautiful. How anyone could not love this house at first glance baffled me.

 _Then again. You always did have a soft spot for the crazy shit. Or should I say one crazy little shit in particular_

I chuckled at my own thoughts, I had been studying this house for years, I knew every headline, every murder. I knew them all by name. Especially one in particular.. Tate Langdon. Sixteen years old, shot dead in his upstairs bedroom by a S.W.A.T team after murdering a few of his classmates at Westfield High.

I hoped against everything that the rumors were true, that the dead still haunted the beautiful Victorian halls. I had to see him.. Just a glance.. I had to.

With a smile I locked my car and headed up the sidewalk to the house. Fitting my key into the lock in the door and hearing the satisfying _click_ as it unlocked. I swung open the door, my black combat boots made a thud against the old, creeky wood floors as I stepped in. I shut the door behind me and leaned against it, taking in a deep, shuddering breath. The air was stale, lifeless from sitting emtpy for so long. It had been six years since the death of the Harmon's and since then the house had been bought and sold three times. The owners never stayed more then a night.

I looked down as my phone let out a loud _DROID!_ Letting me know I had received a text. I swiped my password in and opened the message.

 _'Just got off the phone with the moving company, truck won't be there till morning. Call if you need anything. Love you! :)'_

I huffed, muttering _just great_ under my breath as I typed out a quick reply to my mom. She had been hesitant about me moving out here at first, after all California was all the way on the other side of the country. Of course when I brought up possibly buying the infamous "Murder House" she just rolled her bright green eyes. My mom didn't believe a lick of the supernatural.

 _"Everything can be explained if you think about it. Creeky boards, the wind, a house settling. Everything can be explained with rational thought"_ she would always say every time I brought up something that questioned the line between real and imaginary.

I was gonna miss my mom and my hometown in Virginia, the air was cleaner there, smoother. I was gonna miss the mountains most of all, and the rain. Nothing could help me sleep as well as a big thunderstorm could.

Shaking myself out of my thoughts I kicked my shoes off in the hall. Padding in just sock clad feet into the living room, and plopping myself down on the warn, black leather couch. The house came fully furnished - a gift from the last owners. I begun the tedious task of wiggling myself out of my skintight, black skinny jeans. Grunting as I struggled to get them off, I tugged especially hard and knocked myself off the couch. I let out an _oomph!_ as I landed hard on my back, my jeans tangled around my ankles.

"Fucking hell" I whispered to myself, kicking my jeans off the rest of the way. I stood back up, fixing my red boyshorts were they had ridden up from wearing jeans. Hell if I was sleeping in those babies, all my clothes were in the moving truck because I'm a fucking idiot that forgets to put her clothes box in the car.

I threw my jeans onto the couch before making my way up the old Victorian staircase, my fingers twirling up the handrail. This house was truly breathtaking. I stopped dead (no pun intended) on the last step at the top, when i felt a soft pressure against my back, like someone was tracing my spine through my ripped black sweater. A pleasant shiver coursing through me. I chanced a look behind me, peaking through the curtains of my long, dark black hair.

 _Please be him. Please be him._

Nothing.

I sighed, disappointed as I continued up the last step. Tracing the walls with my fingertips as I expertly maneuvered through the old, creeky halls. I knew this house like it was my own long before it ever was. I knew which room I was looking for and I knew exactly where it was.

"Bingo" I whispered, placing my hand on the cold metal doorknob. I was gentle opening it, like the door itself was precious. The pale blue walls were still the same, the chalkboard still hung in the same place. It was all the same. Except for the furniture, what was still here anyway. This room was surprisingly barren compared to the rest of the rooms. Only a mattress slid against the back wall, a dresser with a few knobs broken off, and a full length mirror with a crack in the corner remained. I didn't mind, it was perfect.

I smiled, twirling around the room like a little kid. I chewed on the ends of my sweater sleeve as I made my way over to the chalkboard. It was covered in a thin layer of dust and you could tell the years were starting to take it's toll on it. The frame was coming apart in a few places. I picked up a small piece of chalk that was left in the tray, pressing it against the board as I began to write. I stepped back, admiring my handy work with a small giggle.

 **Come play with me, Tate**

Was scrawled across the board in beautiful, loopy cursive letters.

Only a second passed before I felt a cold, muscular chest press against my back. Delightfully cold hands laid against my stomach, just above the line of my underwear. I shivered in pleasure. His voice like silk against my ear.

"You called me.. So, let's play"

I moaned.

 **Had to leave you there ;) sorry. Now I know I'm shit at updating every story I have and I can't promise this one won't be the same but that's because my life has become crazy, my modeling career took off (I've been in 13 magazines including the cover of one as well as being the featured model in that issue) and I also met the love of my life! So yeah, things are nuts. With photoshoots and editing and finding time for my love it's hard to find time to write so bare with me. :) let me know what you think so far!**


	2. Chapter 2 (Sweet Dreams)

In less then a second I was spun around and pressed against the pale, blue wall in front of me, Tate's hard body pinning me in place so I couldn't move.

"You're real... I knew you had to be" I breathed, panting from the close proximity of someone I lusted after for so long. He was so close I could feel his cold breath against my mouth, I ached to close the distance between us and steal a kiss from those sinfully delicate lips.

"Who are you? How do you know me?" He asked, pressing his toned chest against me harder in what I presumed was supposed to be a threatening gesture but all it managed to do was send another flood of heat between my thighs.

I tried to hide the moan that was building in my throat but failed, it slipped easily from my lips. I knew from the way he tilted his head to the side, his dark eyes lighting up like a lightbulb had just flickered on, that I was in for a wild ride.

"Scarlett.. But people call me Raven" I said, finally answering his question, I sucked in a breath as his cold fingertips brushed against the line of my underwear, just above where I wanted him most.

"Why do they call you that?" His head cocked to the side almost like a curious puppy, his floppy blonde hair falling into his deep, coal black eyes as his fingers slid lower.

"B - because I like to dine with wolves" I stuttered, his fingers were just inside the line of my panties now and the aching between my legs was becoming unbearable.

The dining with wolves thing was a metaphor a few of my friends back in Virginia had come up with based on my reputation to date the "Fucked up, psycho type" as my friend Lacey had put it. Back then I had no idea I would ever end up here, staring into the stormy eyes of the so called "psychopath" I've admired since I was seventeen.

"Why are you here?" His voice was soft and whispering but his eyes held a demand. A demand I knew I would be punished for if I disobeyed. A fleeting throught scurried across my mind that maybe I wouldn't exactly be against getting punished, but I shoved it away for the moment.

"I bought the house... And I came to see you" I choked out, his fingers were so close to where I needed him. There was a beg ready to drain from my lips but I bit them to keep it sealed away. The heat between my legs was close to driving me crazy.

"Why?" he stepped back with an awestruck look on his face, his fingers sliding free from my bottoms. His teasing game was over, he had gotten what he wanted.

I let out a loud whine in protest, but I answered him anyway. "Because.. I know what you are, Tate".

And just like that, he was gone. Obliterated into thin air like he never even existed, carried off with the midnight wind blowing through the open window. I let out a long breath, slowly sliding down the wall and seating myself on the cold, dusty wood floor.

"Well, that didn't go how I thought it would" I said to myself, brushing my black bangs out of my face. I traced circles in the dust on the floor with my fingertips, thinking over what had transpired in the last few minutes. A smile slowly spread onto my lips, forming into a wide grin.

I knew he had to be real, all the news reports, the deaths here. It was too much of a coincidence for it to not be him.

I picked myself up off the floor with a small giggle, twirling around the room, my bare feet sliding through the dust.

"Sweet dreams are made of this... Who am I to disagree?" I sang my favorite song lowly to myself as I fell backwards onto the mattress in the corner.

"Some of them want to use you... Some of them want to get used by you" I sang, twirling a piece of raven black hair around my finger.

"Well, isn't this just cozy" my mouth snapped shut like a trap as a feminine voice carried from the other side of the room. My eyes trailed the form that had appeared in the room with me. Long straw-like blonde hair, pale face, grandma dress. Ah, yes. Violet.

"So, I see the rumors are false. Everyone thought you skipped town with the baby six years ago. Then again I never did, I figured you died here like the rest of them. What was your name again? Daisy? No, that's not it. Rose?" I taunted her with a devilish smirk.

"It's Violet" she snapped, mashing her teeth together.

"Violet, Daisy. Same difference" I teased, grinning sadistically.

"Look, I came up here to warn you about Tate. I don't know how you know about him or any of us but stay away from him. He's bad news and this house is crowded enough as it is. We don't need another soul trapped here because of Tate"

I rolled my oceanic blue eyes, standing up from the mattress and walking towards her, I slowly started to put the pieces together in my head.

"Let me guess, you guys hooked up and once you found out about his big, bad past you ran for the hills? Am I getting close? I'm gonna take another guess judging from the cuts that I can clearly see on your wrists that you killed yourself. So, let's get one thing straight here, princess. I don't need protecting, and I sure as hell don't need protecting from Tate" I growled.

"You have no idea what you're signing yourself up for. He's a bad person, he'll hurt you. And I'll be there to say I told you so"

"Maybe he'll hurt me" I said, nodding my head as I got into her face, leaning over so I could whisper in her ear. "But I'll probably like it" I cackled at her look of disgust, my laugh echoing around the empty room.

"You're sick" she said.

"I know" I grinned wickedly. "You couldn't handle the prince of darkness, but I sure can"

"The prince of darkness? What are you some psycho fan girl?" She barked out a laugh but I remained silent, staring at her with head cocked to the side.

"My name is Raven and I'm your worst nightmare"

 **How was that? Was the smutty stuff too weird? Lol as you can tell so far Scar's mental state is a bit questionable XD and she's a bit too smart for her own good. Let me know how you guys liked this chapter, I love hearing from you guys.**

 **Also the song she sings is Sweet Dreams by Marilyn Manson but it's covered by Emily Browning.**


	3. Chapter 3 - (This Is My House Now)

**Hey! Sorry for any confusion the name change caused! I didn't realize there was another AHS story called The Raven. Anyway, continue on XD Also I'd like to state that Tate is going to be much darker and agressive in this story. He's gone a little crazy since Violet's rejection. And there is gonna be some mature things in this story along with violent acts so I want to apologize if anything is triggering. I will try to put warnings before chapters that have things like that.**

* * *

"OOOHHH, FUCK IT!"

I woke up with a jolt, my hands grasping wildly for my phone to shut off the alarm that was currently blasting _Five Finger Death Punch_ at an ungodly volume. I was afraid my ears were going to bleed! I finally felt my hand come in contact with the small device and, after a few tries because my eyes were still blurry with sleep, hit **dismiss**. I sighed with relief at the peaceful silence that followed, combing my fingers through my long black tresses, trying to get a few of the tangles out of the rat's nest that was my hair. I stifled a yawn as I stretched, letting out a few catlike noises as my spine popped. My head snapped to the side instantly as a large crash erupted in the hallway, my blue eyes narrowing at the stark white door. I picked myself up off of the old mattress that I had fallen asleep on after my spat with Princess Bitch Face - as I've taken to calling her.

I groaned, padding barefoot into the hall and raising a dark eyebrow at the state the hallway was in. Broken glass littered the hall floor, pieces of old picture frames broken and splintered from the impact of hitting the hardwood. I bent down and picked up one of the few picture frames that was still intact, the picture was a black & white of a man and woman standing next to each other, her hands placed delicately on his shoulders as he sat comfortably in an old rocking chair. The only thing that made this vintage photo stand out from all the rest that littered the hall floor was the fact that the faces in the picture had been scribbled out, hard. You could see the pen marks where it had been pressed down so hard that it almost went right through the photo.

"It's too damn early for this shit" I called out, tossing the picture frame onto the floor with the rest of them, a smile tugging at my pale, pink lips as it crashed to the floor, shattering like all the others.

I walked around all the glass and bounced down the old staircase, each step let out a groan similar to a creature from my nightmares. Never once did I notice the dark figure at the top of the stairs I had just descended. I grabbed my skinny jeans off the couch where I had left them and shimmied into them, twisting my ink black hair up into a messy bun. I walked over to the mirror that hung beside an old antique end table and scanned over my appearance. My makeup has smeared down my cheeks, leaving me resembling that of a wet raccoon. I giggled at the thought and began wiping off the smudged eyeliner from under my eyes.

I rolled my oceanic blue eyes as I heard a knock on the front door.

 _I swear to God if that isn't the moving company._ I thought.

"Yes" I said when I pulled open the door.

"Scarlett Whitmore?" the middle aged man asked, scratching at a stain on his baby blue polo that he had tucked into a pair of ghastly colored khaki capris, his belt straining against his pudgy stomach.

"Yep" I said, popping the _P_. "That's me

"Sign here"

I scribbled down my name and thanked him with an eyeroll as he walked back to the bright orange moving truck. A couple of other guys hoping out to begin bringing my belongings into the house.

"Oh! Watch out for the broken glass in the upstairs hallway. I think some kids may have vandalized the house while it was sitting vacant" I easily lied, giving the workers a dazzling grin. They believed me, as I knew they would.

"And any boxes marked **Bedroom** go in the room at the very end of the hall upstairs" I said, strolling around them as I jogged up the steps to go get my phone. I snatched the sleek device off of the mattress and unlocked it.

 **3 New Messages**

I quickly clicked on my inbox to check them.

 _'Hey! Did the moving truck get there?'_

 _'Are you still asleep? What time is it there?'_

 _'Scarlett answer me'_

I rolled my eyes, typing out a reply to my mom before shoving my phone into my back pocket. My fingers danced across the handrail as I walked back down the steps, impressed with the amount of boxes that had began to fill the entryway. I was a bit of a pack rat.

I grabbed one of the boxes marked **Kitchen** and walked off down the hall towards it's respective place. I set it down on the counter and ripped it open, packing peanuts going everywhere. A smile played on my lips as I fished my phone out of my pocket, connecting to my Spotify and turning my _Five Finger Death Punch_ playlist to shuffle. I bobbed my head to _100 Ways To Hate_ as I started to put away some of my kitchen utensils.

* * *

By the time I finished putting away all my kitchen supplies I had worked my way through my entire _Five Finger Death Punch_ playlist. I chuckled and switched to my _Black Veil Brides_ playlist as I began unpacking some of my belongings for my living room, my favorite item being my _Walking Dead_ lamp that was made to look like a zombie arm holding up the light. I placed that on the side table beside the couch and plugged it in. Next I unpacked my books, which took up three boxes by themselves. I thanked Ben Harmon for installing so many bookcases in his office which was now my living room and I thanked my lucky stars that the last few owners never stuck around long enough to remove them. After I finished putting my books away I moved on to hanging up my black curtains, I was halfway through putting my curtains up when there was a knock on the front door.

I sighed, hopping down from the small stool I used to reach the top of the windows. I muttered obscenities under my breath as I yanked up the door.

"Yes" I clipped.

"Hello, I'm Moira O'Hara. I'm a maid, I come with the house" the old woman said, and I took a second to really look her over. Her left eye was clouded over completely, you could tell she was obviously blind in that eye. Her stringy red hair was stuck up in a bun and her maids uniform was wrinkled with old age. Overall she looked harmless, but also creepy and not the good creepy.

"Yeah.. Um, I'm good" I said, my forehead scrunching as I narrowed my eyes.

"I insist, I worked for the previous owners and would truly love to continue that tradition" She continued.

"I don't need a maid. I live here on my own. It's not like I'm gonna dirty up that much" I said, rolling my eyes.

"Well, I could help with meals and houses this old have personality to them. You can't just treat them however you want. Do you know what to use to clean the floors? That's real wood you know, none of that peel and stick shit" She proceeded and I could see the frustration building in her one good eye.

"I'm gonna say this real slow so you can comprehend okay?" I started mockingly, "I don't. Need. A. Fucking. Maid" I punctuated each word, glaring daggers at her. How dare she come to my home begging for a job and then insinuate that I'm gonna mistreat this place. "And I know this place has personality, more then one could possibly imagine. You say you worked for the previous owners so you know what I'm talking about. You know about the darkness here... Yet you keep coming back... So, let me ask you one question... Why?"

Her face went from anger to confusion to just down right shock and I enjoyed watching every emotion pass. Her mouth gaped open like a fish, she stammered for words yet nothing came out. Her silence spoke volumes.

"That's what I figured" I said, slamming the door in her face.

I sighed, suddenly losing interest in continuing to unpack. I walked around a few of the boxes in the foyer before I found one of the five marked **Clothes** and ripped the tape off. I shuffled through before finding a clean pair of underwear and a new bra along with a pair of comfy black sweat pants and a black half top. I slowly ascended the stairs, and walked into the upstairs bathroom. I was in desperate need of a shower. I sat my phone on the sink and put _Flesh_ by Simon Curtis on repeat, cranking it as loud as my phone would go. I undressed quickly and turned on the water, stepping in and under the spray once it started to get warm.

"Push up to my body, sink your teeth into my flesh. Get undressed. T-taste the flesh. Bite into me harder, sink your teeth into my flesh" I sang along to the song as I lathered up my hair, scrubbing my scalp with my fingernails.

Never once did I notice the lone dark figure sitting on the sink.

* * *

 **Tate's P.O.V**

She was exquisite.. the way she moved.. I could see right through that damn white shower curtain. Her perky breast.. The curve of her hips, the smooth milky white skin of her thighs. I wanted her.. No, I needed her. I wanted to watch her face as I held her down, carved my name into her pale skin and watched her blood pour out. All scarlet red and hot, watch the wound pulse with each beat of her frantic heart. I wanted to hear he scream for me to stop and then hear her beg me not to as I bury myself deep inside of her and paint her insides with my very essence.

Each sway of her naked hips as she sang the provocative song that was playing from her phone had my cock straining against my jeans. I wanted her begging and pleading for me to fuck her.

One word echoed around my mind as I watched her hands move soap across her lean body.

 _Mine!_

* * *

 **Sorry this chapter was so filler :( But are you starting to see what I meant about it getting dark? LOL so Tate has lost it a bit since Violet. I really hope you guys liked this chapter, it took me a while to really figure out when to bring Tate's dark side in. And what did you think about her meeting Moira? I always wondered why no one was like no way creepy old lady get off my porch! whenever she asked for a job XD Also, I have that Walking Dead lamp! It's my favorite thing in my room!**


	4. Chapter 4 (Burn)

**I'm not giving up on this story just yet! I'm so sorry it took soooooooo long to get this out! I had photoshoots and then I went camping with my boyfriend for a while and then I was studying for my drivers test. It's been nuts! The reviews on this story have been so fucking amazing! I can't thank you guys enough and I'm so glad you guys are enjoying my little story. The first part of this chapter is a little boring but gets crazy towards the end ;)**

 **Warning: unconsented abuse (even though she likes it afterwards)**

* * *

Light from the blazing sun slowly crept across the wood floor, crawing it's way closer to my black canopy queen bed.

"Fucking hell" I muttered, knowing full and well that I had closed my blackout curtains last night to prevent the sun from blaring into the blindless windows of my bedroom.

"Fucking ghosts.. Just cause you guys don't sleep" I grumbled, throwing my arm over my azure eyes with a groan of displeasure.

It had taken me three days to set up and unpack everything. Three days and not once did I see Tate.. Or any spirit for that matter, the house was deathly quiet and that bothered me deeply. Part of me longed for the noise.. I was never someone who enjoyed silence, but most of all, I longed to see my little psychopath again, his face was burned into my mind, his very touch seared my skin like magma crashing into the cool ocean. I could still hear his velvety voice in my head as it vibrated through my bones.

"I miss you.." I whispered the words into the air, hoping he was somewhere... Waiting... Watching.

My friends used to tell me that I was obsessed but I knew it was more then that. I was in love with him.. How could you not love someone that you had dedicated so much time to? I still remember staying up all hours of the night, searching and searching every news archive I could find. Hoping to catch a glimpse of something out of the ordinary, something that would confirm that my beautiful psychopath wasn't gone from this world.

And now, being here. Knowing he's here somewhere but not knowing how to reach him. It light a fire in me, a longing so deep it went to my very soul. I wanted to see him.. Touch him.. Kiss him.. And God did I want to fuck him. I wanted to feel his hands around my throat as he pounded me into my bed.. wanted to see his sinful mouth parted in pleasure.

I slipped my hand down under the covers and it slowly trailed down my stomach before gliding across my most sensitive area. I could see him in my head, his muscles flexing under his pale flesh as he stroked his throbbing cock, his black eyes fixated on me before he threw his head of pale, blonde hair back and moaned. A quiet whine slips from my pale lips as I stroked my delicate folds expertly, my back arching off the bed as the pleasure began to build. A tingling sensation spread through my stomach and lower region and with a cry of his name I reached my climax quickly. I gasped for breath, my head rolling back against my pillows. That wasn't the first time I had touched myself while thinking about Tate.. And it probably wouldn't be the last.

"Well that was just gross"

 _Violet_

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? All of you guys have been fucking nonexistent for the past three days and the one time I need a little privacy, one of you pops up" I ranted, still panting from my orgasm. I didn't even bother with being embarrassed about being caught touching myself, I didn't care what she thought about me anyway.

"You said his name you know. He heard you.. He watches you" she said, just like with Tate's words hers were meant to be threatening — to scare me off but they did the exact opposite, they excited me.

I smirked, twirling a piece of coal black hair around my finger. "He watches me, huh? I hope he enjoyed the show"

"Look, psycho. You're not getting the point! He's going to kill you, he's crazy" Violet growled, stomping her foot like an angry child.

I smiled, "Maybe he will, maybe he won't. That's the thing about being crazy, it means you're unpredictable and therefore can't be predicted... Now get out, I need to change"

She groaned in frustration before disappearing into thin air.

With a small giggle I pulled myself from my black satin sheets and bounced over to my dresser. I stripped off my black tank top and black panties before pulling on a clean pair of underwear and a red pair of ripped skinny jeans. I whistled a tune under my breath as I walked over to my closet, a little extra swing in my hips as I thought about a _certain someone_ watching me.

"Tate.. You naughty, naughty boy" I whispered, giggling to myself as I pulled on a black crop top that had studs on the shoulders.

I looked in the mirror and nodded — happy with my look for the day. I twirled my hair around my fingers as I trailed out the door and down the old, creaky staircase.

 _Ding dong!_

"Ughhhh. You'd think moving to a place where nobody knows you would warrant less visitors" I muttered, pulling open the door.

"Hello, dear. My name is Constance —"

"Langdon" I finished for her, slightly awestruck. I knew that fake looking blonde updo anywhere, I had seen her picture on the news reports of Tate's death. My eyebrows furrowed at the little blonde boy standing in front of her with an adorable grin on his little pale face. He looked a little like Tate. I knew Constance was too old to have another child.. So who was this boy?

"Why yes. How may I ask do you know me?" She said, her southern ascent flowing like warm honey.

"Everyone who's anyone knows the mother of the psycho school shooter" I said, repeating the words that had been plastered on every article that had Tate's face on it but my words held no malice, only adoration.

Her plastic smile faltered slightly and I grinned. I leaned down to eye level with the little boy that was tugging on her silk dress.

"Who I don't know, is this cutie" I said, winking at the little guy.

"This is my son, Michael. Adopted of course"

"Of course" I said, nodding.

"Michael just couldn't wait to meet the pretty girl next door, he saw you come in the other night" Constance said, smoothing down his blonde fluffy locks.

"Well, Michael. My name is Scarlett, but you can call me Raven" I said, tickling his sides till he broke out in a large smile.

"We really must be going, but a word of advice, dear. I wouldn't mention Tate's name too much in this house... They say bad memories leave a stain that will linger for an eternity" she said, ushering Michael out the door.

"Don't worry about me, Mr's Langdon. Things that go bump in the night don't really scare me" I said, grinning sadistically.

A worried look passed on her face before disappearing quickly as she exited, shutting the door behind her but not before I caught her last words to me.

 _"That's what Violet said"_

"Yes, well. Mr's Langdon, We all know that Violet was certainly not like me" I whispered to myself, an idea forming in my head as I headed for the staircase to the second floor.

I was going to visit Westfield High. I dreamed about seeing it in the flesh and I had already been in L.A for four days, I really was overdue for a little sightseeing.

I twirled my raven hair around my fingers, humming a song under my breath as I climbed the staircase to my room, my fingers dancing along the railing.

"All the other kids with the pumped up kicks.. You better run, better run. Faster then Tate's gun" I sang, giggling to myself as I opened the door to my bedroom. My stomach flipped when I saw who was standing in the middle of my room. There was a dark look in his coal black eyes as he ran the flame from the lighter in his hand over the small piece of metal in his other hand till the end was a fiery red. Like the top of a volcano, just before it bursts.

"... Tate" I hadn't seen him since the first night, since he pinned me against the wall and toyed with me till I answered him. I shivered.

He looked up, and the look in his eyes frightened me and thrilled me at the same time.

 **(Warning: non consented violence ahead!)**

He was across the room in seconds and suddenly I was pressed against the wall, his body pinning me in place. Memories of the last time we had met like this flooded my mind and heat pooled between my legs.

He cocked his head to the side, his dirty blonde hair falling into his face as his eyes trailed down from my face and hesitated at my chest before coming to a stop on my left forearm. Before I could even look down to see why he was staring I felt a white hot searing pain shoot through my arm, tears pooled at the corners of my eyes but I refused to let them fall and I stayed silent as he pressed the hot piece of metal against my pale skin over and over again.

A frustrated look etched itself onto his handsome face, "Scream" he demanded, pressing the hot metal deeper into my skin.

And I did.

* * *

 **Apologies if that was triggering for anyone, things like that are probably gonna be happening often just because Scar and Tate are gonna have more of a Joker/Harley relationship then a normal one but I will try to always put warnings on each chapter. Let me know what you guys thought of this chapter! She met Constance! And Michael! Violet keeps trying to warn her away but she has no idea who she is messing with ;)**


End file.
